CHAPTER NINE
Sara
I kept thinking about what Archie told me the other day. About why he called me Peaches. The words lingered, refusing to fade.
It turned out I met him first. Even before Cole.
And yet, he had kept that secret all this time.
When I asked him why—why he never said anything—he only shrugged and said, "There was no point, was there?"
I had no answer to that. And I still didn't understand why.
What would have changed if I had known? If he had told me back then?
Would it have mattered?
I wasn't sure.
It had been a week since I started staying at Archie's house. I was grateful to him and his parents. Patient and thoughtful, they made sure I ate well, rested enough, and stayed occupied with minor tasks, helping Janet manage the house.
If I had been alone in all this, I wasn't sure I would have made it through.
During the day, Archie had to go to his office to tie up the last of his final assignment. But in the evenings, he stayed with me, speaking more than he ever had in all the years I'd known him. He filled the quiet with stories, grounding me with his words as if trying to keep me from slipping too far into my own thoughts.
And I let him. Because it was easier than thinking about everything else.
Archie worked for Herston, who owned Frontline Media Group (FMG), one of the most respected news agencies in the country. FMG tackled the hard stuff—politics, global conflicts, environmental crises—providing reports and analyses to major news networks. You wouldn't guess it just by looking at Herston, though. Humble and easygoing, he never flaunted his influence. But in the media world, his name carried weight. He used to be a famous journalist.
His two sons, Archie and Julian, were also journalists but the fearless kind. Archie covered wars and conflicts, while Julian focused on the environment, taking him to some of the most dangerous places on Earth—volcanic zones, Arctic regions, remote jungles, even the deepest seas.
I couldn't imagine how Janet managed it. If they were my children, I would die with worry every time they left home.
I had become too comfortable here, living with them. I loved their house, beautiful yet not too extravagant, a quiet contrast to the wealth they could easily display. The view from the cliff overlooking the city was simply breathtaking.
Still, no matter how comfortable I felt here, I couldn't shake the ache of missing my home. I knew I couldn't stay for too long. I didn't want to keep imposing on them.
And I truly missed my home.
It was the home I grew up in, the place that held my history. And, in a way, it was what led me to Cole.
I was twenty-four, living alone in a place far too big and too expensive to maintain. My parents had died in an accident a couple of years earlier, leaving me with the house—and a crushing debt, but not a cent of inheritance to ease the burden.
The last years of college were a blur of studying and working. I juggled two jobs after classes just to afford to keep the house. The maintenance, utilities, and especially the taxes were overwhelming for a historic house like mine—and that wasn't even counting the debt I still had to pay.
Even after graduating, I kept working two, sometimes three, jobs. No matter how many offers came my way, I refused to sell. Being a historic house, it would have been easy to find a buyer, but that never mattered to me. This wasn't just a place to live—it was my family home, the place where I grew up. I was determined to hold on to it, to one day pass it down to my children.
Then Cole came to me and gave me an offer.
I refused.
But he kept coming back.
Cole was relentless, undeterred by my refusals. He took this project—me—very seriously.
He lured me in with his charm, taking me to lunches and dinners, picking me up from work, and even offering me a job. From the very beginning, he never hid the fact that he wanted my house; he was upfront about his intentions. But he was so charming, so persuasive, that I let him.
I let him charm me.
In the end, he succeeded. It took him a year. By that point, I was too exhausted to keep fighting. I had been working myself to the bone.
He bought the house from me but let me stay, giving me time until he found the right buyer. Somewhere along the way, we started our relationship. A year later, he moved in with me.
And when we got married, he did something I never expected.
He gave me my house back, putting it in my name.
It was his wedding gift to me, along with a full interior remodel—something I later found out had cost him hundreds of thousands.
I had been with Cole for six years. Three of them as his wife.
He was once my savior, but now he was my downfall.
We had a happy marriage. That's why his betrayal was so impossible for me to believe. It made me blind to all the lies surrounding me.
Stupid. I was so fucking stupid.
Cole's job required him to travel and be out of the office often. I just never imagined he would use that time to cheat on me, let alone with Elsa.
Elsa, who was known for being difficult to work with—arrogant and a complete snob. Devious, manipulative little whore.
I knew I needed to get back to work. I'd been avoiding it for a week, especially with my phone off. The thought of checking it—of seeing if Cole had sent me anything—made my stomach turn.
And I was just as afraid if he hadn't.
Because that would mean he had truly let me go. That he had discarded and forgotten me.
Which was a ridiculous thought because I would never, ever go back to him.
He cheated on me. Had a child with another woman.
He had destroyed any chance of us ever finding our way back to each other.
I shook my head, refusing to let my thoughts linger on him. He wasn't worth even a second of my time.
Work. I needed to just concentrate on work.
So far, I had only communicated with Dona through my personal email, and even then, I had only accomplished little. Honestly, I had barely done anything at all.
But she had been a godsend—sending me reports, keeping me updated on our progress. Most of the time, I didn't even reply.
I had been away for too long. My company was my pride, my creation, and I was still carving out my place in the industry.
Walking away felt like giving up.
And that wasn't me.
I was a fighter. I didn't back down.
It was Janet who finally pulled me out of my head, making me realize I couldn't go on like this forever.
All this time, she had never pushed me to talk, never pried. She knew that I still wasn't comfortable speaking about it to anyone. But one afternoon, as I helped her prepare lunch, I finally asked. I was desperate for advice.
"Janet... if you were in my shoes, what would you do?"
She looked at me, surprised that I was finally ready to talk. Janet considered her answer for a moment before saying,
"First, I'd head to the garage and grab the axe," she said, her expression completely serious. "Then I'd chase Herston out of the house."
She paused as if considering her next steps.
I grinned, unable to help myself. The image of her—an elegant lady with neat platinum hair—chasing a big guy like Herston with an axe was just too funny.
"After that, I'd spend a few days drowning in misery, eating ridiculous amounts of chocolate, crying until there was nothing left. And when I finally felt ready, I'd get up, take a shower, and call a lawyer."
She gave me a small smile, leaning closer.
"Then I'd get dressed, walk out that door, and take my life back."
So that's exactly what I was going to do.
I nodded to her and said firmly, "Yes. I'm going to take my life back."
*** *** ***
"Are you sure you're ready?" Archie asked, his voice laced with concern.
We stood side by side in front of my office building, gazing up at it, squinting against the morning sun.
"Yes." I hesitated. "No." I let out a sigh. "...Yes."
"Do you want me to come up with you?" he offered.
I looked him up and down, taking in the way his black button-up shirt fit snugly against his broad shoulders, the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the veins on his tattooed forearms. Black jeans, sitting low on his hips, and worn combat boots completed his look. His hair was slightly tousled as if he'd just run his fingers through it.
He looked very good today. Too good.
I could already picture my all-female team ogling him, completely distracted and no work would ever get done.
"Umm... No."
"You sure?"
"Don't you also have work to do?"
"I have my laptop in the car. I can sit in your office and work there," he offered casually.
I stared at him, tempted.
He flashed a teasing smile. "I can be very quiet, Peaches."
If only that were the problem.
"I think I'm good." I tore my gaze away, focusing back on the building as my stomach twisted with uncertainty.
Would Cole be there? Would Elsa?
And most of all, who else knew about Cole's relationship with Elsa? Did everybody know?
Would I be able to stand tall, chin high, and face them all?
Oh, God.
A cold dread settled over me, fear and doubt snaking around my throat like a noose. My legs stiffened, my body threatening to give out.
I was just seconds away from bolting when I felt Archie's hand on my arm—grounding, reassuring.
"You've got this, Peaches," he murmured, his voice a steady anchor against my rising panic. "I know you can."
I was already choking on my anxiety when I met his gaze, but the calm green of his eyes soothed me. The frantic pounding of my heart eased.
"I can." I nodded, my voice still shaky. "I can do this."
"I think I need to go up there with you," he insisted.
I shook my head. "I'm fine. I can do this."
"Okay," he said slowly, his eyes scanning my face, making sure I was truly fine. "I'll be around here. I'll find a café or somewhere to sit. We can have lunch together."
"I'm not going out for lunch." I didn't want to run into Cole. Or worse, Elsa. Not yet. "I'll ask someone to buy it for me."
"Then I'll pick you up after work."
My gaze softened as I looked at him. He was too kind to me. "I can take an Uber or a taxi, Archie. Besides, I need to go home to pick up clothes and everything else."
He shook his head. "Is five-thirty okay?"
When he saw me hesitate, he added, "I'll come up there and get you myself if you say no, Sara."
"Okay." I nodded, knowing he wouldn't listen to me.
"Good." He smiled as he spun on his heels, walking away. "Good luck, Peaches. I'll be around here if you need me."
I took a deep breath and began to walk. As I entered the building, I scanned the lobby, my heart racing with worry.
No sign of them.
I felt a moment of relief as I stepped into the elevator and again when I entered my office, even though I was holding my breath the entire time.
Almost to my room, I heard Dona shout, "Thank fuck you're back, Sara!"
She rushed over and wrapped me in a hug.
I hugged her back, feeling a pang of guilt. She must have been struggling without me here. She definitely needed a raise.
"Give me fifteen minutes, then update me on everything, okay?"
Dona nodded, giddy with excitement.
I scanned the room, offering a smile to my team, who responded with waves and smiles of their own.
There was no way to know for sure if they were aware of Cole and Elsa unless I asked. But I would never ask. So, I decided to pretend that no one knew. Pretend everything was normal, even though nothing felt normal anymore.
Elsa wasn't at her desk, but her things were still there. I'd asked Cole to take her off the team, and I hoped to God that he already did it.
Dona noticed where I was looking. "She's been missing all week, and her phone's been off. We don't even know if she's had the baby yet."
"Right," I muttered, stepping into the office straight to my desk.
Everything I wore, I had borrowed from Janet, including the small bag I carried. Inside it was just my phone and my wallet. My bag was still at the office, untouched since the day I chased Cole with the taxi.
I pulled out my phone and turned it on again.
I held my breath as it beeped frantically, the screen popping up with message after message. There were dozens from Emma. I went straight to the last one, which was a voice recording.
"Where the fuck are you, Sara?" Emma's voice boomed through the phone. "It's been a week, and I'm so fucking worried! What's going on? I couldn't get hold of you or Cole the entire week. That asshole called me asking where you were, and then his phone was off until now. I've been calling everyone we know, and no one has a clue where the fuck you both are! You've given me heart palpitations all week, you know that? I'm sending you the doctor's bill. No, I'm kidding. I'm okay."
She laughed at her own joke.
Not funny.
My heart seriously stopped for a second hearing that.
"I finally got hold of Bobby, and she told me I needed to come. She said you stayed with Archie. What the fuck does that mean, Sara? What's going on? Oh, by the way, is Archie still as hot as I remember?"
I heard her chuckle before she kept going. "Bobby sent me a plane ticket, thank fuck, because I couldn't afford it. So now, I'm at the airport, about to board the plane. See you soon, okay!"
Through her rambling, one thing stood out: Cole's phone was off, and no one knew where the hell he was.
I checked my messages, and the last one from him was from the morning he camped outside of Archie's house, waiting in the car.
He hadn't contacted me at all.
I thought it was because my phone had been off, and he didn't want to call Archie, knowing he wouldn't answer.
That thought gnawed at me all day. It consumed me, and I couldn't focus as Dona updated me on work.
By 3 p.m., I couldn't take it anymore. I called Archie.
"Please take me to my house right now."
"Okay," he answered, his voice laced with confusion. "I'm actually at the café across from your building. I'll be there in five minutes. Let me get my car first."
After muttering a quick apology to the stunned Dona, I rushed out of the office, my hand slamming against the elevator button in a frenzy. The seconds seemed to stretch as the elevator descended, my heart pounding with every floor it passed.
I didn't understand why I was acting like this.
Because it didn't matter anyway.
Whatever he did didn't matter anyway.
When I reached the lobby, Archie was already waiting in his car. I jumped in, eager to get this over with.
"What happened?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
I didn't answer, instead biting my thumbnail, trying to steady my racing thoughts.
The drive only took fifteen minutes. Archie parked on the side, in front of my house. I didn't waste time rushing to the door as I fished my keys from my purse.
I opened the door.
All the lights were off except for the one in the foyer. I moved slowly, almost cautiously, my hand reaching for the light switch on the left wall. When it flicked on, I froze.
Everything hit me in waves. It took a moment for my mind to process what I was seeing. Slowly, painfully, my brain caught up, and what I saw landed like a punch to the face. I felt the air rush out of me as if its weight was suffocating me. My hand trembled as I grabbed onto Archie's arm for support, my legs suddenly unsteady beneath me.
Everything was exactly as I remembered from that last day. The pink coffee mug I'd left on the kitchen counter before I left was still there. Cole's favorite black coffee mug, the one with my name on it, was still there. The leftover pancakes I made that morning were also still there on the kitchen counter. I saw the red pumps by the living room sofa—the shoes I'd left behind when I changed my mind for the black-strapped ones. My phone charger sat exactly where I'd left it on top of the sofa.
We were in a hurry that morning and didn't have time to clean up. We spent too much time in the shower.
It hit me then. The painful, gut-wrenching realization.
Cole was never home.